Coming Home
by creating-not-finding
Summary: ONESHOT/Drabble with Jason Todd's return to Gotham. Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd


It felt weird to be back home.

The thought occurred to Jason as he leaned against one of the effigies of Gotham, a rather fierce looking gargoyle carved into the dark granite material of an old, rather run-down apartment building. Probably wouldn't be run-down for long though, he reflected sardonically. He'd noticed the Wayne Enterprises sign posted in one of the windows on his way up. Part of Bruce Wayne's magnanimous plan to clean up the city. Which was a nice sentiment, Jason conceded, but a little misplaced. There was a better way for Bruce to clean up Gotham, and it was done wearing a cape and cowl, not a twenty thousand dollar tux. In fact, there was an even _better_ way to get the job done…a method that was considerably more permanent.

But Jason hadn't come back to lecture Bruce on the redundancy of his ideologies. He's already been down that path, and Jason was in no way ready to become involved with Bruce again, or his night-loving alter ego. He was trying to let go of old resentments, not place himself in a position where they would simply be rehashed. Which would basically be any position where Bruce was involved. So Jason had resolved to utterly avoid him all together.

Unfortunately, Gotham was the city of the Bat—and avoiding the man who wore the symbol was somewhat easier said than done.

Jason felt the first drops of rain on his face, and tilted his head back to the downpour. He'd decided to leave his helmet off for this night of patrol, but he kept the mask for a signature flash of red. He would be red without the hood for a change. The rain was falling harder now, a classic Gotham downpour. There was a time when he'd find an inopportune rainstorm as one of many odious reminders that he was a victim of perpetual misfortune. But in the past few months he'd (inadvertently) started a team of his own. He had spent time with them traveling the world and beyond. And he had met a very pretty blonde stewardess who was _very_ into him. For the first time in what felt like forever, his luck seemed to be looking up.

"Red Hood," came a voice behind him, "Long time no see."

Jason turned with a slight start—he wasn't used to be caught off-guard—to see a tall figure dressed in red perched on the building behind him. And all of a sudden, he changed his mind about the whole change of luck thing. He'd really only been in the city for a few hours, and already he'd been tracked down by a member of the family he'd decided so desperately to avoid?

"Robin." Jason replied, not particularly trying to hide the hint of petulance in his voice. Or, Jason mentally corrected himself, _Red_ Robin, as he was going by these days. He liked to think his color theme had influenced the change, but he knew that wasn't really Tim's style. It had taken Jason some time to accept it, but eventually he'd realized that Tim was no mimic; he was an original. And he was very good at his job, which was probably why he'd been able to track him down in the first place. Better than Jason had been, in fact, though no matter how much he warmed up to the kid, it was something he would _never_ admit. The simple fact was Tim Drake was suited to this business. Of all of Batman's protégés—although partner was probably the better choice of word—he'd been the only one to proactively seek out the vigilante life. It made him different than the rest of them.

Dick had viewed the life as a thrill, and eventually he had grown out of it. Jason himself had been cursed to follow Dick, dooming him to a constant contest to escape his predecessor's shadow. Damian…well, the kid was locked in the same desperate quest for Bruce's approval that had tainted Jason's career as well. And as annoying as the brat was, Jason couldn't help but feel bad for the little snot. After all, that kind of drive was what had gotten Jason killed.

But Tim…Tim was different. He was the most put-together of the four. Or at least, he was the best at _seeming_ put-together. From what Jason could tell, he took the job more seriously than Dick, had cared less about his predecessors' roles than Jason himself. And if Tim had ever started out seeking Bruce's approval, he certainly didn't seem as motivated by that now. Of course, that could mostly be because he usually had it; at least on a much more frequent basis than he, Jason, ever had.

Which used to piss him off, but Jason had recently warmed to the notion that Tim was truly the best of them. And since he had now found an identity for himself outside the world of the Bat, any old feelings of hurt or jealously in regards his replacement had long since dissipated. Mostly.

Jason saw the corner of Tim's mouth twitch at the mispronouncing of his name, but the boy didn't say anything. Instead, he uncrossed his arms from where they'd been folded across his chest and held out a hand. "Good to have you back," the kid said, and Jason noticed it was without a trace of sarcasm. The man hesitated for a moment before at last extending his own, and giving his "brother's" a firm shake. Sure, he hadn't been planning on running into any of the Bat-family while he was in Gotham. But if he'd have to pick one of them, he was glad it was Tim. They might not be on the best terms yet…but they were getting there. And besides, the kid knew what he was talking about.

Alfred's waffles really were the _worst_.


End file.
